


Love Survives

by BlockWritesShance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Hunk is the best friend ever, Lance and Shiro as parents, Lance as a sculptor, M/M, Major Character Revival, Major characters death, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Shiro as a Warrior, Shiro referred to as Takashi, baby Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlockWritesShance/pseuds/BlockWritesShance
Summary: “Why did you leave me?!”The statue didn’t reply, glaring at the ceiling. Lance scoffed, pushing off from the table and moving to stand in front of his creation.“You’re nothing but a statue now; a story that people will tell to their children’s children of a man who gave his life for nothing.” Lance tilted his head to the side as he reached a hand up to smack it against where a heart would be. “You’re nothing but stone.”And suddenly, Lance was exhausted. All of the heat, all of the anger that had flared up inside of him vanished, replaced with the cold sense of apathy.“I’m so tired, Takashi. I wish you were here.”





	Love Survives

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Love Blue Big Bang! I’m so glad to have been a part of it. :D I worked with two wonderful artist and one amazing beta. Thank you so much to mayisingtoyou, nevermoree-the-raven, and totesunrepetantfangirl! 
> 
> I know it says that the art is in story and I will be adding it later once I get to a computer. I also apologize for the fact that there’s no italics. It will be fixed later :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance yawned as he opened his door. He and Takashi had spent the night in each other’s arms, the air filled with their moans and declarations of love. A blush warmed Lance’s cheeks as he smiled at the ground. He and Takashi didn’t get the chance to make love very often, but when they did, it was _amazing_.

Lance rubbed frantically at his red cheeks to get rid of the images dancing about his head before he turned to look around his workshop. Marble and chisels of all different sizes were scattered about the room, chairs and blankets filling in where they could. Books on anatomy and mythology and religion were strewn about the desk, pages marked randomly from where a stray image or paragraph had sparked an idea for a sculpture.

“Good morning!” Lance greeted the room as he pulled the curtains back from the window, allowing the morning sun to drape over the room.

“Good morning.”

Lance shrieked and grabbed one of the hammers from his desk, spinning and holding it in front of him. Takashi Shirogane, one of the great Warriors, was standing bent over in the doorway, laughing. Lance huffed, tossing the hammer back onto the desk before crossing his arms.

“Takashi! What have I told you about scaring me when I’m working?”

“Not to,” Takashi grinned as he straightened up, his eyes twinkling as he stepped into the room. “But you’re not working, are you?”

“I-you- UrGH! You infuriating man!” Lance tossed his hands up into the air before sitting down on the stool positioned in front of his latest project. It was a figurine of the God of Love and Fertility, Blaytz.

“Oh, come on — it was funny! You looked so cute with your little hammer,” Takashi teased as he moved to lean against the counter to Lance’s right. “Besides, you’re hot when you scream for me.”

Lance flushed, heat rising to his cheeks as flashbacks from last night flitted through his head. The bruises on his hips tingled and Lance shifted in his seat. “Don’t make me kick you out, even if I do like you, I need to concentrate.”

Takashi tilted his head back with a hum. “Does that mean I can’t talk to you anymore?”

Lance stayed silent, knowing that if he didn’t respond Takashi would get pouty. Instead of focusing on the words spilling from his lover’s mouth, Lance thought back to when they first met.

He and Takashi had known each other for years, stumbling across each other in the marketplace and accidently getting their groceries mixed up. The next day Lance had hunted the man down to return them and the rest was history! It was only this past year, however, that their relationship had gotten more than just friendly.

“Lance?”

Lance loved Takashi and not just in the platonic sense. But, relationships between those of the same sex were forbidden by the Emperor. It was said that their first ruler, back when Altea had been founded had taken a lover of the same gender only to watch the Empire fall to famine and plague.

So, Lance had stayed silent about his feelings, pining quietly at night in his prayers. Then, one night, he and Takashi had been drinking and stargazing and Lance — having had more than normal — had rolled on top of the man, proclaiming his feelings. They had made love that night under the stars, protected by the trees. Now, a year and a half later, their relationship was stronger than ever. The two men had bought a house together that had three rooms. No one questioned it because the price and location meant the house needed two people to pay for it.

“Lance.”

And what with Takashi missing an arm, Olkarion having blessed him with a new one made from metal, nobody expected him to take a wife. Lance was an artist, dedicated to his craft, and thus, no one expected him to have the time to take a wife either. Everything was perfect!

“Lance, I’m being pulled for battle against the Galra. I received the orders this morning. My love, I leave at noon.”

The hammer and chisel Lance had been working with clattered to the floor as Lance spun to face his lover. Tears were in the corner of Takashi’s eyes and Lance knew he wasn’t joking. Lance’s hands shook as he reached up for Takashi and the man immediately pulled him into his arms. Lance buried his face in Takashi’s chest, the shaking of his hands moving out and causing his entire body to shiver.

“They didn’t give you any time!” Lance cried out, hands fisting in the fabric that hung down Takashi’s back, “How do they expect you to say your goodbyes and pack in a few hours?!”

A warm hand stroked down his back. Lance pushed himself closer, wanting to climb inside of his lover so that they could never be separated.

“I’m a Warrior, Lance,” Takashi sighed. “It’s my job.” He bent down to lift Lance into his arms, turning to set him down on the counter. “Please, I don’t want my last few hours with you to be spent in tears. Take me home, make love to me so that I have a piece of you with me.”

Lance pulled back, reaching a hand up to cup Takashi’s jaw. Takashi hummed and leaned into it, closing his eyes and Lance’s thumb began to stroke his cheek.

“Of course.”

* * *

 

They walked through the town, other villagers nodding and waving to them as they went about setting up shop. The second they were out of view of the village, the two interlocked hands, wanting to hold onto one another for as long as possible. All too soon, the house came into view, and dread filled Lance’s stomach with lead.

 

* * *

 

“I love you,” Lance whispers as Takashi slowly undresses, running his hands over exposed skin.

“I love you,” Takashi whispers back as he lays Lance down gently on the bed.

“Don’t leave me,” Lance begs as Takashi works him open, fingers gentle and slow as they exchange kisses.

“I would rather die,” Takashi gasps as he enters Lance.

 

* * *

 

“I have to go now, Lance. I will return to you; you have my word.”

Takashi presses one last kiss to Lance’s lips before he’s clipping his Warriors cloak on and walking out the front door. Lance is left then with nothing but Takashi’s cum in his ass, the bruises that litter his hips and thighs, and a promise for Takashi’s return.

Shaking fingers move to press the cooling liquid back into himself. He wants this part of Takashi to stay with him. He wants to have a piece of Takashi in case the man equivalent to his husband doesn’t return. The thought shakes Lance, and his hand jerks away, moving to press against his lips as a sob breaks out of his chest.

Shakes overtake Lance’s body and a high pitched keen echoes through the room.

 

* * *

 

_“Why are you hammering away at a block of rock?”_

_“Because it’s not finished yet. Why do you swing that silly hunk of metal around?”_

_“Because I’ve had my family taken away from me, and I refuse for anyone else to have that happen to them as well.”_

_“Hmmm, are you sure it’s not just a need to look handsome and strong?”_

 

* * *

  
_“It’s beautiful- The, uhm, the statue.”_

_“And you’re beautiful when you practice.”_

_“I don’t know about that, my arm’s a little gruesome to look at.”_

_“No, it’s a part of you. It’s a blessing, and yet it still pales in comparison to your soul.”_

_“You have a way with words.”_

_“What can I say, beautiful things bring out the artistic side of me.”_

_“Hmf… stupid artist.”_

_“Hmf, stupid Warrior.”_

 

* * *

 

Lance chipped away at the cold stone, the familiar work easing the tension that had settled on his shoulders after Takashi left. The statue of Blaytz was almost done, the only thing left to finish were the details in the face and then to smooth away the scratches left behind with sandpaper.

Lance had just started the smoothing process when he received a messenger.

“I have a message from the palace for a Lance McClain, sculptor?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Lance set down the wet rag he had been using to finish the polishing, turning to face the messenger.

“They are requesting your presence at the palace; the King wishes to speak with you.” The small red head bowed slightly before turning on their heel and sprinting away.

“The palace? How odd….” Lance frowned and straightened up. He couldn’t go to the palace dressed like this! He had to make an impression — preferably a good one. A grimace split Lance’s face as he glanced down at the dust covered robe he was wearing. He’d have to go home to change.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance dipped into a low bow, the blue robes he was wearing brushing against the marble floor, the beads woven in tinkling lightly.

“Rise,” King Alfor commanded before leaning back into his chair and observing Lance with a hand on his chin. “I was told that you share a house with Takashi Shirogane?”

Fear gripped Lance’s heart and he clasped his hands behind his back to stop them from shaking, pasting a smile on face.

“Yes, Your Majesty. He has taken pity on an artist and was kind enough to offer the third room in his house to me.”

Lance’s heart was pounding out of his chest as he kept his eyes locked onto the King. The man narrowed his eyes at Lance before letting out a hum. King Alfor straightened in his seat before snapping his fingers. The same messenger that had delivered the message to Lance earlier darted forward, placing a scroll in the King’s hands before bowing and making their way back to the hidden alcove they came from.

“I am sorry to inform you that Shirogane is dead. In his will he has requested that the house be sold and the funds go to you, allowing you to buy a new house for yourself. He has also asked that any items in his possession go to you except for his Warrior items. Those will go to his protégée who has already received the items named.”

Lance felt like he was falling. The ground had dropped from under him and the air had been snatched from his lungs, a large hand squeezing his torso. There was a ringing in his ears as he heard the rest of the King's speech.

“He gave his life rescuing my daughter, a fellow Warrior, and I would like to dedicate a statue to his name. Large enough to go over the hedges in my garden, yet small enough to move. The palace will pay you for your work, half up front and half when received. You will place all other projects on hold. I don’t care how long it takes but my daughter would prefer that it happen before the end of the Yule in a few months. That should be sufficient enough time, yes?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. It will be done right away. I do ask, humbly, Your Majesty, that I be given time to handle the house and funeral first.”

“Granted. You have one week. Dismissed.” King Alfor raised a dismissive hand before focusing on another scroll that had appeared from nowhere. Lance stumbled from the room, tripping over his feet as he rushed to bow before he fully left the room.

The people in the market place were out in full force at this time of day, and many of them bumped into Lance as he made his way down the path. Apologies and yells to “watch where you’re going” both slid unheard past Lance as he stumbled out of the colorful scene. Laughter flew by along with a group of children waving wooden swords, and Lance felt a hand squeeze his heart even tighter. Tears pricked at his eyes and he blinked them away.

He couldn’t break down here. It wouldn’t be safe. People would see him and wonder why he was breaking. And if they asked, Lance wouldn’t be strong enough to hide from them. He would sob out Takashi’s name and everyone would know what he and Takashi had. Lance didn’t want them to know. This was now something between him and his dead — _oh Takashi, why, you were supposed to come back! Takashi!_ — lover. Takashi would be scorned, and Lance would be killed.

Time had no meaning as he walked, the forest now dull and lifeless. The sandals he wore dragged through the dirt, kicking up clouds of dust that hung in the air. A gust of wind blew through the trees, showering Lance in a mist of brown leaves. His vision blurred as their house — just his house now, at least for the next week — came into view. He staggered through the door, fumbling with the lock.

And when he was finally alone, when he was finally behind a locked door, Lance broke.

A scream clawed itself out of his throat, loud and tortured as if someone had just torn Lance in two. And isn’t that what just happened? Hadn’t the world torn Takashi from him with greedy, unforgiving hands? Wasn’t Takashi his other half? Part of his soul?

Lance curled up into a ball as sobs shook his body, taking away his ability to walk, or even crawl further into the house. His hands grasped at the fabric that lay limply around him, tearing in his white-knuckled grip. Beads scattered across the floor and Lance couldn’t help but view them as pieces of himself.

He was shattered too, after all.

 

* * *

 

Lance stared blankly around his new house. They hadn’t let him keep the house he’d had with Takashi, telling him that Takashi’s will specifically stated for the house to be sold. Lance had fought to keep their home, his face bright red as he screamed and protested before Warriors were sent to drag him out of the house.

Now, he was here in this new, empty house that looked like a shell. The walls were bare. Gone were the paintings that Lance had convinced Takashi to make with him. Gone were the weapons scattered in the corner, shining in the dim light as Lance talked with Takashi about his day. Gone was Takashi and all the warmth he had brought with him.

Lance’s back cracked as he bent down to pick up one of the crates. The sound echoed back and the hollow thing that had taken residence in his chest grew.

He stumbled over to the window that faced the rising sun, setting the box down and settling himself on his knees. He opened the crate, swallowing harshly at the contents. Sitting innocently inside on a piece of silk fabric were two statues -- one of Blaytz, and the other of Olkarien. With shaking hands, he lifted them out and set them on the window sill before pausing. He closed his eyes, his hands coming to rest over the customary position on his heart, and he began to pray.

“Oh, Blaytz, God of Love and Fertility, thank you for giving me what time I had with Takashi. It may have been short, but I will never forget him or the love that I will hold for him until my own death. Thank you, with my heart and with my soul.” Lance leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the statue’s forehead. He paused as a hawk shrieked in the distance before sighing and turning to face the second statue.

“Oh, Olkarion, Goddess of Technology and Arts, thank you for providing for Takashi. Thank you for allowing him to continue living happily with both arms. Not only did you improve his life, but you also improved me. Thank you, with my heart and with my soul.” Again, Lance leaned forward to press his lips to the statue’s forehead.

He swallowed, tilting his head back and letting himself breath. He had thanked the Gods, he had mourned, and he had unpacked what was necessary. Lance braced himself against the wall and staggered to his feet, his legs tingling from where he had been kneeling for a long period of time.

“Now, I have a statue to make.”

Lance moved towards the back of the house, dogging between unpacked crates and new furniture. Eventually he made it to the back room that he had converted into his new studio. Slabs of marble were already scattered about, taking up space amidst the various tools and sketch pads that littered every available table or table-like surface.

He grabbed the sketch book he had used to sketch out the human form in motion and began to flip through it. Takashi had let him accompany him to training one day so that Lance could see the Warriors in action and create better poses for his statues. His throat went dry as he flipped through the book, his eyes itching as they began to tear up.

Eventually, Lance stopped on a page where he had captured Takashi mid sword swing, his Warrior’s cape flaring about him as he clashed with his sparring partner. Takashi had amazed Lance that day, his fierceness enthralling him enough that Lance just _had_ to get it all down on paper while he could. It would be perfect for the statue of the Warrior who saved the Princess.

Lance tore the page out of the sketchbook and set it down on top of a slab the size of his torso. He would sculpt a maquette first to see how it worked, and then he would create one that would fit in the garden of the palace. As he went to set the book down, a flash of color caught Lance’s eyes.

It was a drawing of Takashi asleep after they’d made love for the first time.

Takashi had looked so perfect that night, a slight smile on his face. He’d had one hand stretched out to wrap around Lance’s thigh, fingers resting on his artery. He had fallen asleep stroking Lance’s skin to the beat of his heart, his eyes watching Lance as Lance sketched. Lance had never felt more whole, more complete than in that moment where it was just them.

Lance slammed the book shut, scrubbing a hand across his face to get rid of the tears that had started to fall down his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Months went by as Lance worked. He only left his house to gather groceries or more supplies for his work. Other than that, he kept himself secluded from the rest of the village and kingdom. Occasionally, someone would come by who wanted to commission Lance, and Lance kept them in the front room, letting them know that he was currently working on a different project.

Eventually, after he turned client after client away, people just left Lance alone.

He liked it that way, preferred it actually. It meant that he didn’t have to keep smiling that fake smile or faking laughter whenever someone tried to make a joke. It meant that he no longer had to accept people’s pity whenever they came around and saw all the pictures of Takashi Lance had torn from his sketchbook and pasted all over his studio. It meant that he no longer had to hear about people commenting on the fact that his eyes were constantly red or that his beard -— once kept shaved off and neatly trimmed around his ears — now grew unchecked.

He was perfectly fine living this way.

Lance chipped away at the inside of the cape, cradled gently between the statue’s already carved, spread legs. The cape was the second to last thing Lance had to finish, the last thing being Takashi’s hair. He didn’t want to get that adorable hair fluff wrong.

A sigh left Lance’s lips as he set his chisel and hammer down, reaching up to run his fingers through his greasy hair with a grimace. He hadn’t bathed in two months; maybe it was time for another one? A knock on his door brought Lance away from his pondering, and he moved to slip out from underneath his statue.

“I’m not taking any more clients for the rest of the year! Sorry, but leave!” Lance called out as he went over to his basket of tools. He exchanged the chisel he was working with for a smaller one and turned to face his work. It was almost done, he just had to add in the tiny folds in the cape and he could move on to the hair. He’d give himself three weeks to finish.

“Lance, it’s me, Hunk. I’ve brought you food again. Please open up, buddy. I’m worried about you,” Lance’s best friend begged through the closed door and Lance let the tools he’d been clutching to his chest clatter back into the basket.

He’d clean them later.

“I’ll be out in a minute, Hunk!” Lance eyed the bucket of water in the corner he used to soften the clay he would make molds with.

Lance walked out of his studio five minutes later with wet — but clean! — hair. Hunk had unpacked the travel bag of food he’d brought, bread, cheese, and meat filling up the unused kitchen table.

“It’s not a lot, but it’ll do.” Hunk tossed a bright smile over his shoulder before moving to Lance’s cabinets and ice box. “Especially seeing as you have no food here at all.”

Lance shrugged when Hunk shot accusing eyes at him, picking up a slice of bread and beginning to pick at it. “I have plans to go shopping tomorrow for more supplies.”

Hunk sighed, pulling out the opposite chair and meeting Lance’s eyes. “Please tell me that you’re not trying starve yourself to death, Lance. You know Takashi would hate you for doing that to yourself.”

And Lance has never hated Hunk before in his life, but right now, Lance was pretty sure that he hated Hunk.

“I know you don’t like me bringing him up–”

Lance slammed a hand down on the table, rattling the plates and interrupting his friend. Hunk’s eyes were wide and Lance felt his shoulders heaving in time with the breath hissing through his teeth.

“Then why did you?” The words dripped from Lance’s mouth like poison and he snarled, baring his teeth. “You know how I feel about the situation and you brought it up anyway. It has only been four months, Hunk. Four. Months. And you and everyone else act like I should just move on from him like he was just an old piece of bread gone stale!”

Hunk’s mouth moved up and down, and a part of Lance knew that Hunk was just worried. But the part of Lance that had lost Takashi was screeching for blood, for someone to feel as lost and broken and hurt as he was.

“He was _mine_. I loved him and he was my _everything_! My soul, my heart, my blood, my _air_. I cannot survive without him Hunk! I don’t know what to do! And you just want me to forget him!? I can’t! Forgetting him is _killing_ me!” Lance was sobbing now, his fingers curled into the table, the only thing keeping him upright as his vision blurred.

“Oh, Lance….”

Lance collapsed into his seat, his head falling into his hands.

“Just go, Hunk. Leave me alone to mourn the loss of my husband.”

There was a gasp and then a period of silence before the sound of a chair scraping across the floor made Lance curl into himself. Large fingers carded through his hair before an equally large hand squeezed his shoulder. Lance sobbed even harder as it reminded him of nights spent curled up with Takashi.

“I’ll be back with groceries tomorrow so you don’t have to go into town,” Hunk’s voice shook and Lance felt horrible. He had just yelled and screamed at his best friend, and instead of abandoning him as he had abandoned Hunk, Hunk was buying him _groceries_.

 

* * *

 

Lance worked all through the night and all through the day for the next week and a half. Hunk came and went, dropping off bags of food before leaving without a sound. The sun rose and set, and the only reason Lance was aware of it was because he had to go and light his oil lamps every now and again whenever there was a change in lighting.

Tonight, though, tonight Lance was finished. Takashi stood before him, in all his glory. His expression was fierce and protective, his sword raised to cut down all who stood before him. His armor clung to his body, each individual chain carved with Lance’s loving hand. A shield was clasped in Takashi’s opposite arm, the crest of Altea embossed across the surface.

He looked absolutely beautiful….

He looked nothing like Lance’s Takashi.

Lance turned his back to the statue, his back protesting the movements as he’d just spent the last six months hunched over working on this. He bowed his head, closing his eyes as he imagined what Takashi would’ve said if he was still here.

_“That’s not me at all!”_

_“Of course it’s you! Look at it!”_

_“But that’s the me everyone out on the field sees. Lance, that’s not the me I want everybody to see!”_

A strangled laugh wormed its way out off Lance’s throat and he turned, leaning back against the desk to stare at the statue once more. Lance felt his fingers clench, digging into the table behind him and sending flashes of pain up his arms.

“Why did you have to continue being a Warrior after you lost your arm the first time?”

Lance hissed the question into the empty room, his eyes beginning to water. His stomach turned as heat flooded his cheeks. The hollow feeling that had filled Lance crumpled, the hot, sharp remains of anger scattered in its place.

“Why did you leave me?!”

The statue didn’t reply, glaring at the ceiling. Lance scoffed, pushing off from the table and moving to stand in front of his creation.

“You’re nothing but a statue now; a story that people will tell to their children’s children of a man who gave his life for _nothing_.” Lance tilted his head to the side as he reached a hand up to smack it against where a heart would be. “You’re nothing but stone.”

And suddenly, Lance was exhausted. All of the heat, all of the anger that had flared up inside of him vanished, replaced with the cold sense of apathy.

“I’m so tired, Takashi. I wish you were here.”

Lance leaned his head against the cold chest of the statue, bringing his other hand up to wrap around the back in a mockery of a hug once given. He had no idea how long he stood there, hugging the statue, letting the dark silence of the night lull him into a half asleep state.

“Oh, My Star, what have I done to you?”

Arms reached up to wrap around Lance, and suddenly the cold, hard stone beneath him gave way to warm, malleable flesh. Lance squeezed harder and snuggled closer. A large hand stroked down his back, familiar and foreign at the same time. Lips pressed against the top of his head, pausing before a chin replaced them.

“Lance, look at me.”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed even more and digging his forehead further into that familiar chest. The hand that had been stroking Lance’s back trailed up to tangle in his hair, tugging softly backwards until the warmth from the candles scattered about the room fell on his cheeks. Under his eyelids, his vision lit up to a medium red.

“Open your eyes, Lance, please,” Takashi’s voice begged, and Lance felt tears begin to slowly slip from beneath his eyelids. The hand that had been resting against his waist lifted, and then what felt like a thumb was smoothing the tears away from his cheeks.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because I’m going to open my eyes,” Lance swallowed harshly, dragging his hand up until it was cupping what felt like a jaw, “and then I’m going to realize that this is just a dream.”

Warm lips brushed across Lance’s forehead and a shiver ran down his spine.

“I promise–”

The lips pressed against his nose.

“I’m not–”

His cheek.

“A dream.”

And then those lips were pressing against his lips, the hand that had been wiping away his tears now cupping his jaw and tilting it up. Lance melted against those familiar lips, revelling in the dryness and swiping his tongue against them like he used to. A groan came from in front of him before teeth were dragging across his bottom lip, heat shooting down his spine and pooling in the pit of his stomach.

“Takashi!” Lance’s wavering cry echoed through the room as Lance was lifted, his legs wrapping around a firm waist.

“I’ll just have to prove you aren’t dreaming then.”

Lance groaned, burying his face in the space between Takashi’s neck and shoulder. He pressed a gentle kiss to the skin before nibbling, sucking it into his mouth. A moan vibrates through Lance as the hips pressed against his rolled, sending a familiar hardness sliding against his own.

“I want you to leave bruises on my hips,” Lance gasped the words out as he was laid down, his bed sinking further as Takashi crawled up after him. “I want to feel you in the morning so that if this is a dream, I’ll have something of you to hold on to!”

Takashi sighed, trailing his fingers up Lance’s thighs, pulling them apart so that he could rest his weight there.

“I promise I’ll do that, if you look at me. I’ve missed looking into those ocean eyes of yours.”

Lance trembled, both from fear and arousal. He reached up to tangle his fingers in short hair, pulling until a forehead rested against his. He swallowed, before asking,

“Do you promise to be here when I wake up?”

“I promise.”

His eyes slowly opened, blinking at the light that trailed into the room from the full moon outside. A large shape in front of him began to come into focus, and Lance let out a sob as familiar grey eyes stared back. The corners of said eyes crinkled, before disappearing from Lance’s vision as a kiss was pressed against the corner of his mouth.

“I told you I wasn’t a dream.”

Lance tightened his grip with his thighs, wrapping his arms around Takashi’s shoulders and pulling until all of his weight was resting on top of Lance. The hole that had been in Lance’s chest began to grow warm, love filling it instead of anger this time.

“How?” Lance reached up to trace across the scar over Takashi’s nose, the familiar bumps and ridges causing his finger tip to tingle when he moved it away.

“Blaytz has given you his blessing, and his gift is to spend one last night with me. I’ll be gone when the sun rises.”

Lance closed his eyes, a single, empty laugh ripping itself out of his throat.

“I should’ve known you’d break your promise again.”

“...Lance.”

Blue eyes snapped open, glowing with fury.

“No! You promised me you would come back to me, and then you died! You left me, Takashi! And just now, you promised you would be here when I woke up, only to tell me that you’ll leave me again when the sun rises.” Lance let his head fall back against the bed, tears prickling the corners of his eyes again.

“Fuck, I’m so tired of crying.” He reached up to scrub at his eyes.

“I didn’t want to leave you, My Star.” Shiro’s voice was soft. “But if I had let the princess die, then they would’ve killed everyone who had left for that battle and you would’ve been ashamed — you and anyone I had had close contact with. I had no choice.”

Lance sighed. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other in the darkness and listening to each other’s heartbeats. Eventually, Lance shifted, rolling his hips up into Takashi as he lifted his head to press an open mouthed kiss to his jaw.

“Make love to me? If this is our last night together, I want to remember it,” Lance begged, his hands moving to cup Takashi’s biceps. “I want your bruises all over my body. I want to feel you for the next month. Please?”

And if Lance thought to himself about what exactly he would do after that month was up, if he thought about the will he’d filed with the treasury two weeks ago, then who else was going to know about it at this moment in time?

Takashi hummed, leaning down to fiddle with the clasp that held Lance’s robe on. A sigh left the man before he was pressing his lips to the place above Lance’s heart.

“I would love nothing more than to spend all night making love to you, Lance.”

Lance felt his heart drop into his stomach at the tone of regret.

“But I don’t want tonight to be a repeat of the day I left for the Battle that killed me. You are too precious to me, and I love you too much for this to be another fuck and go.”

Tears welled up in Lance eyes and he reached up to swipe them away. Takashi rolled them so that they were both laying on their sides, and Lance leaned forward to bury his face in his chest.

“I just, it’s been so hard without you, and I finally have you again but you’re going to leave me again too,” Lance sobbed the words out. “I’m always cr-crying now and I yelled at Hunk!”

Lance continued to tell Takashi everything he had gone through without his husband at his side. Takashi listened the entire time, silent, his hand stroking Lance’s back. When Lance was finally done, story told and cried out, Takashi lifted his chin and pressed their lips together softly.

“I’m sorry I’ve left you alone to deal with all of this. And I’m sorry I’m going to have to leave you again.”

“No!” Lance sat up, hands fumbling to tangle in Takashi’s robes. “I’m glad I got to see you one last time! I honestly thought that I would have to live the rest of my life without being able to say a proper goodbye.”

Takashi sighed, sitting up and pulling Lance into a hug. “That’s the thing though. I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Lance. I want to stay here for the rest of our lives. I want to watch you sculpt and garden and just live.”

Lance pressed closer, enjoying the body heat that came from Takashi’s skin, and nuzzled into his neck. “How much longer so I have you for?”

“About,” Takashi tilted his head to look out the window, “six or seven hours, give or take.”

Lance did some quick math in his head before he was nodding, pushing himself up and off the bed. Takashi looked pained at first, then relieved as Lance stretched out a hand.

“Where are we going?” Takashi asked as Lance tugged him up.

“You’re going to watch me sculpt and then we’re going to plant some flowers before going to bed in each other’s arms.” Lance looked over his shoulder to send a sad smile in Takashi’s direction. The hand holding his tightened for a moment.

“Thank you, Lance, My Star.”

And so, Lance spent the next hour sketching out a statue of him and Takashi. The two lay reclined together on the couch, talking and enjoying each other’s warmth. Kisses were exchanged a few times, giggles and gasps echoing throughout the room. Afterwards, Takashi dragged Lance out to the backyard. The garden that had been planted there was overgrown, weeds poking out every which way from where Lance had neglected it in his grief.

Lance had lounged in the grass, laughing as Takashi excitedly tore up weed after weed. The dandelions that had been tossed to the side, Lance wove into makeshift flower crowns.

And for that moment in time, they were happy.

Wrapped up in each other, they forgot that they were running on borrowed time. Eventually, they both grew exhausted enough that they lay tangled together in the grass, legs intertwined and flower crowns askew on their heads.

Over the horizon, light began to shine and Takashi began to glow. His eyes snapped open, a pained look engulfing his face.

It was time for him to leave again.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and pressed a kiss to Lance’s forehead before standing, lifting Lance into his arms. Carefully making his way back into the house, Takashi laid Lance down on the bed. He let himself have another minute to watch the love of his life sleep before he turned to the drawing materials left out on the desk.

* * *

  
Lance groaned as he rolled over, cursing at the light that shone in his eyes. A crinkling sound startled him, and his eyes snapped open. He was back in his bed, and Lance felt his heart sink.

It was just a dream after all.

A sigh left him and he rolled onto his back, frowning as the drinking noise sounded again. He reached a hand up to his head, freezing when his fingers brushed against soft petals.

“Wha?” He grunted out his confusion as he wrapped his fingers around the object and pulled. Something snapped behind his head, and then Lance was staring down a torn flower crown.

“....Oh.”

It wasn’t a dream.

“Oh.”

_It wasn’t a fucking dream._

Lance grinned excitedly as he shot to his feet, the flower crown fluttering back down onto the tangled sheets on his wake. He ran out into the kitchen, his feet stinging at the cold from the floor.

“Takashi! Takashi!” Lance flew into the counter, pain smarting across his hip. But it was easily ignored as he turned around. Takashi wasn’t in the kitchen. There was, however, a plate on the counter still steaming from where it had been recently cooked.

Hope swelled in Lance’s chest and he felt laughter bubble up in his chest. Takashi was still here! Maybe… maybe Blaytz had changed his mind?

“Takashi? Where are you?” Lance huffed, turning to stomp his way into his studio. Bird song fluttered in through the window, and Lance grinned at the sketches of him and Takashi scattered about the room. He’d gone a little crazy with the sketching; Takashi had taken the pencil from him and kissed him until he couldn’t remember what he was doing.

“Are you gardening this early in the morning? I know I told you I would love you no matter what, but this… is….”

Lance trailed off as he stood in the doorway leading outside.

Standing there in all its glory, draped in the early morning sunlight, was the statue he had made of his dead husband. The sword was pointed towards the sky, and standing there in front of the statue, admiring it, was Hunk.

“O-oh. I… oh.”

Lance felt the ground beneath his feet tumble and whirl like the waves of the ocean, and he leaned against the doorway as the sky began to blur. A humming began to ring in his ears, and Lance blinked with confusion as Hunk’s face suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Lance?”

Maybe Hunk knew where Takashi went? After all, he could just be going for a walk! Yeah, that made sense. Lance nodded and Hunk’s face grew even more worried.

_“Lance!”_

Black spots edged their way into Lance’s vision, and when his eyes slid closed, Lance didn’t protest. He accepted it with open arms, a sigh of relief leaving him.

* * *

  
When Lance next woke up, it was to the sight of Hunk hovering at his bedside, a wet cloth clutched in his grip. A moan left Lance’s lips as he shifted, his neck popping as he went to push himself up onto his hands.

“Lance!” Hunk’s voice banged through Lance’s head, his hands fluttering around Lance’s shoulders. “You’re awake!”

“Big guy, I love ya, but you’re really loud right now. Like, _loud_ loud,” Lance moaned out, pushing those worried hands away. “What happened?”

Hunk tugged his lower lip between his teeth, working it before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “I brought you your groceries but you were still asleep. So, I made you some breakfast and then went to check on your project.”

Lance felt his heart begin to pound. The longer Hunk spoke, the more he began to remember.

“I, uh, I wanted to see if you were done yet but when I peeked in, the statue was gone. Instead, the place was filled with sketches of you and, uhm, and him. I thought I saw something outside your back door so I went outside and that’s when I saw your statue. And,” Hunk gasped here, his hands clasping together in front of his chest. “Lance, he’s absolutely _beautiful_! I just, the way you carved him he looks as if he was alive!”

Lance smiled sadly, his fingers reaching down to brush against the crushed petals of the flower crown he’d forgotten earlier.

“For a moment there, Hunk… he was.”

* * *

  
Over the next few months, Lance went through the paces of his life. He ate, he slept, and he spoke with Hunk whenever his best friend visited. When the Palace sent a group of servants to pick up the statue, he pointed them to the backyard and locked himself in his room. Days, then weeks went by where he simply sat in his studio, staring at the sketches that were racked up over every available surface.

Lance was existing.

He didn’t know if he wanted to exist anymore.

“Takashi, for some reason, I feel as if you’ve died all over again,” Lance whispered the words against the sketch laid on the pillow next to him. His dry lips rasped against the paper, and when Lance wet his lips, he could taste the charcoal on his tongue. “Why did you leave me again?”

Snow blanketed the windowsill, and the faint sunlight that drifted through the bare trees sparkled off of it and into Lance’s eyes. He let out a huff, turning so he was on his back. The only sound that filled the room, was the faint flickering of the candle and the wind howling and clawing at the window to be let in. Lance shivered, cold despite being under his fur blankets.

“I, I think I’ll be joining you soon.” Lance lifted his hand so that it filled his vision, flexing his fingers and watching the dry skin crack. Blood began to seep through the tiny tears in the flesh, and he watched the brilliant red drip onto his forearm with an interested blink. “I think there’s one more thing I have to do first. Hopefully you like it.”

 

* * *

  
“Hunk visits every day now,” Lance hummed happily as he chipped away at the marble statue. The basic shape of a face was coming along rather nicely. “He thinks I’m not eating enough, but I think he just worries too much.”

The wind whistled in through the open door leading to the garden, rustling the paper Lance had propped up. Takashi’s face twitched, almost as if he had rolled his eyes, and Lance giggled, reaching out a powder-stained finger to brush adoringly against a still-again cheek.

“I agree, he is being funny!”

From the doorway leading into the kitchen, Hunk watched on in increasing concern.

 

* * *

  
“Lance, you haven’t eaten in a week. I’m worried about you.”

Lance chuckled, switching his smoothing stone to his other hand. He began to polish the calf he was working on, his fingers gently caressing the edges of the straps of Takashi’s sandals. He sighed dreamily, the stone tumbling from his fingers as he followed the muscles of the calf up to the adoring eyes of his husband.

“I think I’m hearing voices again, ‘Kashi. But that’s so silly! I’m not insane at all!”

 

* * *

  
Lance yawned, curling into himself tighter from his spot at the statue’s feet. His masterpiece was finally done; he could rest happily now. Above him, eternalized in stone, Lance stood leaning back into the embrace of his husband. Their foreheads were gently pressed against each other’s, eyes closed and mouths opened wide in content smiles. Takashi had his arms resting around Lance’s waist, strong and bracing. And Lance’s arms were braced atop them, his fingers intertwining with Takashi’s.

“I’ve finished my last project, My Love. I’ll be–“ Lance yawned, his eyes fluttering shut, “I’ll be with you tomorrow.”

A flash of light darted across his vision, but Lance was too tired to open his eyes.

_**“Oh, my child, what have you done to yourself?”** _

Strong arms lifted Lance from the floor and he curled into the warmth. A hand stroked through his hair and then he was being lowered onto something soft. There was a bit of pressure against his forehead.

_**“I am truly sorry my gift to you only made the situation worse. I should’ve realized that your souls were too tied together. Rest easy now, child; I shall put everything to rights and when you awaken, all shall be well.”** _

Lance drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

  
When Lance woke up, he found himself hungry for the first time in months. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs as he stretched before turning over onto his stomach. Only, before his limbs hit the bed they were stopped by a warm form.

“Oof, I forgot how much you hogged the bed when you slept.”

Lance froze, his fingers curling into fabric and digging into the warmth below it. He didn’t want to open his eyes, scared of the possibility that this was once again a dream, or even another situation where he would only have a limited time before his heart was once again torn from his chest.

“A-are you here until the next morning again?” Lance’s voice shook with the question, his eyes itching behind their lids. There was a huff of amusement, and Lance’s hair shifted over his face with the force of expelled air. Rough fingers, human fingers, reached up to trace delicately over his lips before a palm was resting against his cheek.

“My Star, my heart, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

Blurry blue eyes blinked themselves open, vision focusing in on love-filled grey eyes. Takashi was smiling brightly at him, the scar over his nose stretched thin. His eyes were sparkling and his white hair shone in the sunlight coming through the window.

“Hi,” Takashi breathed, his grin turning lopsided as Lance let out a sob and threw himself forward. Their limbs entangled together, Lance doing his best to wrap himself around his husband. Takashi was doing his best to reciprocate, his arms squeezing most of Lance’s breath from his body as he cried.

“I-you were gone!” Lance cried, burying his face in Takashi’s shoulder. “You left me!”

“Shhh, I know. And I’m so sorry for doing that to you. Blaytz thought that he was giving you a chance to say goodbye.” Takashi sighed as he ran a hand up Lance’s back, his hands tangling in brown locks his that now hung around Lance’s shoulder blades. “Lance, we both had to watch while you practically _destroyed_ yourself. Why would you do that?”

Lance was silent for a moment, his chest heaving as his sobbing slowed to small hiccups of breath. “I… Takashi you are my life. Without you? I don’t know how to live. And I know that’s not healthy, but you are the only reason I continued to live when we first met. With you gone, I forgot how it was to live.”

Lips pressed against the side of Lance’s face and he sighed, sinking into the affection.

“We’ll work on that then,” Takashi hummed out, rolling so that Lance was laying on top of him. “But first, why don’t we go get some food into our stomachs?”

Lance shook his head, tightening his arms around Takashi. “I don’t want to leave your arms.”

Takashi chuckled, his chest vibrating with the sound and Lance felt himself melt even more. The arms around Lance tightened and then Lance was suddenly in midair. He yelled, his legs automatically moving to wrap around Takashi’s waist.

“I forgot you could lift me like that,” Lance gasped out, breathless as Takashi’s chuckles changed into full blown laughter.

“Lance? Lance!” Hunk’s voice echoed through the house, and Lance felt his stomach drop. How was he going to explain this?

“In the kitchen!” Takashi called out, moving to set Lance down on the counter. When Lance turned panicked blue eyes on him, Takashi just shook his head with a smile. Loud pounding footsteps echoed and Lance squeezed his legs tighter around Takashi’s waist.

_“Who the hell are you?!_ ” Hunk growled out, his eyes narrowing as he saw the large man standing at the counter, legs that looked a lot like Lance’s wrapped around his waist.

Then the figure turned, eyes twinkling as his mouth opened.

“It’s good to see you again, Hunk.” Takashi Shirogane, fallen Warrior spoke.

Hunk passed out.

 

* * *

  
“Wait, wait. So, you’re telling me Blaytz gave you a blessing?” Hunk asked the question over his shoulder, stirring the eggs he was cooking.

Takashi nodded, his chin digging into Lance’s shoulder. “The first blessing was gifted to me so that I could say goodbye to Lance. Only, the results of that were worse than we expected. So, he gave Lance another blessing. This time my life is tied to his. As long as Lance stays alive and healthy, I shall be by his side.”

“That’s…” Hunk trailed off, turning to scrape the eggs from his pan into the bowl sitting on the counter next to him. “How are you going to explain this to the Palace? Emperor Alfor will want to know why only Lance was gifted a blessing when his lover — his forbidden lover at that — died and why he, someone who rules over the kingdom in place of the Gods and Goddesses was not.”

Lance and Takashi exchanged a look. “We’re leaving, Hunk. I, I’m not living in hiding anymore. Takashi and I are going to be heading for the ocean.”

Hunk swallowed, nodding his head once slowly before doing so again, more confident this time.

“Fine, but only if you allow me to cook for you for the trip. It’s a long way to the ocean and I can’t have either of you starving.”

 

* * *

  
Lance was exhausted; he told Takashi so as he collapsed against his pack. Takashi sent him a smile, setting his own pack down as he scanned the area.

“Well, we’re almost there and we have been traveling for most of the month. Do you want to just camp here for the night and then continue on our way in the morning?”

“Please?” Lance begged, reaching a hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “We may have been traveling for a month, but I’ve never travelled in my life and it’s getting hotter than I’m used to.”

An apologetic glance was dismissed with a wave of Takashi’s hand and he folded up his map and tucked it away. The two quickly began to make camp, divvying the chores between themselves with practiced ease. Once the fire was started and dinner was cooking, Takashi broke the comfortable silence they had settled into.

“Lance, I didn’t really ask this before we left, but why are we heading for the ocean? It’s still a part of Altea.”

Lance froze, his hands stilling from where he’d been repairing a pair of trousers that had had an unfortunate date with a pair of brambles. He sighed, setting the fabric down and folding his hands together.

“When I was little, my mother would tell me the story of our ancestors. I enjoyed all of them, but my favorite one was the story of how we came to land.”

Takashi blinked, his head tilting adorably to the side as he ladled some soup into a bowl and passed it over. “Tell me it? You don’t really talk about your past that much.”

Lance smiled, accepting the bowl and blowing away the steam before nodding. “It’s a long story, so I’ll tell you after dinner.”

Takashi paused, taking a sip from his own bowl before nodding. They ate in silence, enjoying the warmth from the fire in the chilled night. Above them, the stars twinkled in quiet observance. It was when the bowls had been cleaned and put away, and the two men set up in their bed rolls that Lance finally spoke up.

“Long ago, before the kingdom of Altea, there was a family that lived in the sea. They had been there since before they could remember. By order of the Gods they guarded the sea, keeping it clean and safe. A daughter of the clan, La’cali, was tasked with watching the beaches. One day, she heard a cry for help from one of the whales that had been migrating through. Her young one had been beached. La’cali promised to rescue the young one and quickly swam to shore. When she arrived though, there was a man there with the baby whale.”

“What’s a whale?” Takashi asked, turning onto his side so he could view Lance better. Lance smiled back softly, turning so that they were facing each other.

“I’ll sketch you one when we get to the house.”

Takashi nodded before motioning for Lance to continue with his story.

“She grew concerned at the distressed cries coming from the baby whale and swam as fast as she could to reach the shore. When she arrived, instead of finding the man harming the creature, she found him trying his best to keep him watered and safe from the harsh sun. This man was Tulio McClain. He lived in a dying village and had been on the beach looking for crabs in the sand when he watched the whale wash ashore.”

Lance’s smile widened and he rolled onto his back to peer up at the stars. Takashi found his heart fluttering at the sight, awed by his husband.

“They worked together and the baby whale was reunited with his mother. However, instead of returning to the sea, La’cali stayed to talk with the man. The two stayed on the beach for the rest of the day and into the night. They had fallen in love. When La’cali went to go back to the sea, however, she found that her gills had dried up and her fins had disappeared. She cried into the night, her voice carrying across the sea to find her family.”

“Wait, how did she lose her gills and fin? It makes no sense!” Takashi exclaimed. Lance shook his head in response.

“When her family arrived, they were equally upset to discover that their youngest and most beloved member was unable to rejoin them. They prayed for an answer from the Gods that had assigned them their roles, wondering what La’cali had done to have her role as a protector removed. Blaytz answered their prayers. He came down from the heavens, walking across the ocean to embrace La’cali. **You have found your heart in this man.** He said, motioning to Tulio. **You will still be able to protect the ocean from this beach, but you will no longer be able to live under the waves**.”

“So, because she had fallen in love with someone on land she was being taken away from the only home she knew? Lance, this story is sad! I thought this was a happy ending story!” Takashi pouted, rolling so he could rest his chin on Lance’s chest.

“Hush! I can’t tell you the story if you keep interrupting!” Lance giggled, leaning forward to place a kiss on Takashi’s furrowed brow. The fire crackled pleasantly in the background as Takashi huffed and settled back down with a grumble.

“ **Your family can still visit, and only those related to you and your clan will ever be able to find this beach**. And with that he disappeared once again. La’cali cried, and her tears were lifted to the heavens as her family said their goodbyes. Tulio, seeing that his love was upset, offered to build her a house here on the beach, so that she would never have to leave.”

Lance’s words trailed off, and he sighed deeply. “It’s not a happy story, Takashi. It’s a story of love and loss and how life is never fair. It reminded me as a child that in order to earn some things I had to give up other things. I get to keep you, but I had to give up my home. And it is a choice I would make in a heartbeat.”

Takashi swallowed at the emotion in his love’s voice. “Lance….”

“Hey, I love you.”

“...I love you too.”

 

* * *

  
They arrived at the beach two days later. Lance laughed at the awe in Takashi’s face. The sun was playing hide-and-seek with a cloud at the moment, so the beach was shrouded in shadow, but that did nothing to hide how amazing it is.

“It’s so vast!” Takashi shouted, turning to look at Lance. Lance giggled before taking off down the beach, kicking up sand as he went. A glance behind himself showed that Takashi was chasing him, their bags left by the large tree they’d emerged next to.

Lance had no idea how far he’d gotten when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him off the ground. Laughter filled the air as Takashi swung him around in a circle, and then they were falling backwards into the warm sand. Takashi hit the ground first, softening the landing for Lance by cradling the smaller man to his chest. Lance turned in his arms so that they were pressed chest to chest and leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Takashi’s jaw.

“I love you,” Takashi whispered, his eyes soft as he reached a hand up to cradle Lance’s cheek. Lance leaned into the palm with a hum.

“I love you too.”

They laid there, enjoying each other’s warmth and basking in the sun. Waves crashed onto the beach, creating a calming background noise. Lance sighed happily.

“I could stay right here for the rest of my life.”

“Right here?” Takashi asked, amusement lacing the question. “Are you sure? We’re out in the open and if it rains we’d get soaked! And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to eat anything because, you know, we’re in a pile of sand right now.”

Lance’s head tipped backwards from the force of his laughter. He reached out and slapped at Takashi’s chest, matching Takashi’s wide grin with one of his own.

“I meant staying in your arms! Is this what I have to live with now? Maybe I should’ve- don’t tickle me! Maybe I should’ve just kept your groceries!” Lance cackled at Takashi’s outraged gasp. He wiggles his way out of his husbands arms and then stood up to stretch. Takashi climbed to his feet, looking around to see how far away from their belongings they were.

“Hey, Lance?” Takashi tapped him on the shoulder. “That wouldn’t happen to be that cabin you were talking about, would it?”

Lance turned to follow Takashi’s pointing finger and then let out a squeal of excitement. “Go grab our stuff! I’m going to see if the door’s unlocked!!

He raced up the sand dune towards the cabin peeking out from the edge of the woods. It was a small thing. Ivy climbed up the walls providing a nice camouflage and the dark wood blended in well with the shadows of the surrounding trees. A porch led down to the beach and Lance climbed the stairs leading up to it, his hand trailing behind him on the railing.

“It’s beautiful,” Lance murmured to himself. The door was shut, and on the floor in front of it was a small basket. Lance walked over to it and crouched down.

Inside was a scroll, a key, and some sandwiches and cookies that looked scarily similar to the ones that Hunk had made for them before they left. He grabbed the scroll and unrolled it.

**Lance,**   
**It seems that your family line and myself are connected. As you’ve followed your roots back to the sea, I have a task that I must ask of you. Your ancestor, La’cali, was once the guardian of this beach with her husband. Now, it is your turn to guard its shore.**   
**You and your husband have suffered. If you stay and guard this beach, then I promise that you and your husband shall receive a boon from me in the future.**

There was no signature, but Lance knew who it was from. Footsteps in the sand sounded behind him, and Lance glanced over his shoulder to see Takashi walking up to the porch, their bags hanging from his hands.

“What’s that?” Takashi questioned as he set the bags down and moved to peer over Lance’s shoulder at the scroll. “A message?”

“It’s from Lord Blaytz. We’ve been tasked with protecting this beach in return for our protection.” Lance rolled the scroll up and set it back in the basket before leaning back against Takashi. “We’re finally safe.”

Takashi’s arms came up and settled on Lance’s waist, fingers squeezing lightly in comfort. On the horizon, the sun started to set, turning the waves a lovely orange color. Lance sighed and tilted his head back, placing an open mouthed kiss against the underside of Takashi’s jaw. He hummed at the slight scratch of Takashi’s stubble.

“All alone, where no one can see us,” Lance murmured as he trailed his lips down, lapping gently at the skin before nipping it with his teeth. The hands on his waist tightened, pulling him back until he could feel the beginning of an erection starting to push against his arse. “We won’t have to hide or be carefu-ah!”

Takashi spun Lance around, keeping the centimeter between their bodies. His mouth immediately descended onto Lance’s, hot and fast and wet in his desperation. Now, it had been over a year since he and Takashi had last enjoyed each other in the way it looked like things were going. So Lance was not going to feel embarrassed or guilty about the whine that left him as he melted into his husbands chest.

“My Star, My Lance- missed you-hah,” Takashi panted the words against Lance’s lips, his tongue darting out to dance with Lance’s. It was easy for Lance to move his hands so that he was clutching at one of Takashi’s shoulders while the other tugged frantically at his hair, trying to keep him from moving away from him when they parted to breathe in deep, gulping pants.

Hands trailed down Lance’s back as lips trailed a similar path down his neck, sucking and licking and nipping. Those hands settled on his ass, squeezing tightly for a moment, causing Lance to arch back into the grip, before lifting. And then he was wrapping his legs around Takashi’s waist, tugging frantically at the silver strands in his grasp so that Takashi’s mouth moved up from where it had been sucking a large bruise into his collar bone to his own lips.

Takashi had not stopped making this growling, hungry noise and it was causing the most delightful shivers to dance up and down Lance’s spine before pooling in a puddle of heat above his groin.

“Want you- ha- inside of me- hah- Takashi,” Lance requested in between kisses, pulling back in order to speak before diving back in. Takashi groaned, stepping forward to lower Lance down so that he was sitting on the railing. Fingers found their way up to Lance’s mouth, and he moaned as he sucked them in.

His tongue delved between the fingers, licking and tasting as he began to drool. Lance let his saliva build up on his tongue, using it to slick Takashi’s fingers. While he had been distracted by the fingers delving into his mouth, Takashi had lifted one of his legs up onto Takashi’s shoulder, exposing his hips to the warm air.

Wet fingers gave one last caress to Lance’s tongue before they were pulling away, trailing down Lance’s lifted leg towards the V of his legs. His head tipped back as he moaned at the feeling. The one leg he still had wrapped around Takashi’s waist tightened, and he arched his hips up into the press of Takashi’s fingers against his hole.

Lance’s dick was fully hard now; the exposed tip glistening from the precum that had gathered and started to drip from his slit. He reached a hand back to grip the railing, his other hand coming up to fumble for a hold on the back of Takashi’s neck as a finger entered him.

“You’re doing so good, my heart. So beautiful; look at you,” Takashi was mumbling the same words over and over again, and Lance felt himself begin to tremble. He didn’t know if it was from the feeling of Takashi after a year or if it was an emotional thing — hell, it was probably a combination of both.

One thing he did know was that he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Takashi,” he breathed out as one finger became two, then three.

“Takashi,” he gasped against a pale, scarred neck as those fingers withdrew and the blunt tip of his husband’s penis replaced them.

“Takashi!” He moaned out as he was breached, the length sliding into him with what seemed to be the ease of familiarity.

They paused there, Lance fully seated on Takashi’s cock, one leg thrown over his shoulder, the other around his waist, foreheads pressed together, and soaked in the fact that this was really real. Tears fell freely, neither of them ashamed of the emotions that raced through them.

Lance leaned forward, pressing a trembling kiss against Takashi’s lips. His swallowed against the lump in his throat before leaning back so that he could make — blurry — eye contact.

“If you ever leave me like that again, I will personally hunt you down and kill you before I use that same blade against myself.”

Gentle fingers lifted to caress Lance’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, eyes sliding closed. Then that hand was tilting his head up, and he let his eyes fall open so that he was staring into a sea of grey.

“I would never willingly leave you like that, My Star.”

No more words were exchanged after that.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance woke up to the sun shining warm on his back. A hand was lazily trailing up and down his spine, almost sending him back to sleep.

“Good morning, my Star,” Takashi’s voice rumbled in his ear and Lance let out a content sigh.

“Mmm, g’morn’n.”

Takashi chuckled, and Lance was bounced up and down from where he was laying on his chest. He pouted up at Takashi, receiving a kiss as an apology.

“I’m going to go for a run down the beach. Do you want to sleep a little bit more or do you want to start setting up your new work studio?”

Lance rolled sideways off of Takashi’s chest, propping his head up on his elbow. “I might start working in the studio. I had an interesting dream last night and want to get some of the ideas it sparked down on paper.”

“Alright,” Takashi got out of bed, leaning down to give Lance a lingering kiss before he bent over to grab some trousers. “In that case, I might see if I can bring us back some seafood for lunch.”

He looked so much happier, his eyes shining with a constant small smile on his face. Even his hair — silver as it was from his return from death — looked livelier. Lance let his eyes trace Takashi’s form as he finished picking up his sandals before Takashi was leaving with a wave.

Panic raced through Lance for a few moments, the thought of Takashi leaving and then not returning stealing his breath away and making his vision dance. He quickly got a hold of those thoughts, shoving them to the back of his mind and bringing up his dream from last night to silence them.

Takashi cradling a little boy to his chest, softly swaying back and forth on the front porch as Lance watched from the doorway. A child with black hair running down the beach, laughter filling the air as he and Takashi chased behind him. Lance waking up with a small weight on his chest and Takashi’s arm cradling them both.

His breathing evened out, and Lance opened his eyes. It would be a while until that stopped happening, he knew that, but he still hated it when it happened. He got out of bed, making his way towards the room they’d picked out last night for the studio. Lance let his fingers trail delicately against the wall behind him, his thoughts lost in the cabin.

It had looked small, simple when he’d first seen it. Maybe enough room for two bedrooms and a kitchen if Lance was being generous. That had changed when they’d entered the house after their love making. The first room had been the living room, large enough to hold a few benches and a table. To one side had been a kitchen, large enough that Takashi had gotten excited about it. To the other, a hallway that branches off into more rooms. There had been four bedrooms, and a spare room! He and Takashi had quickly decided that they would take the one furthest down the hallway, and Lance would turn the spare room into his studio.

He was jolted from his thoughts when his hand dipped into empty space. Turning his head, he found himself outside of his studio, and Lance quickly made his way inside. His bag of sketchbooks had been thrown in the room last night, Lance still sleepy and high from his orgasm. He walked in and grabbed the bag, making his way over to the desk that sat in the corner.

Lance sat in the chair, reaching into the bag for one of the sketchbooks and a stick of charcoal. He flipped the book open, and began to sketch. He lost himself to the scratch of charcoal moving over paper, filling page after page as he floated in his creative headspace.

“Lance, it’s time to eat some lunch.”

Takashi’s voice from the doorway jolted Lance from his thoughts, and the black stick broke between his startled fingers. He pouted down at the broken pieces, dust scattered over the page he had been working on and his fingers.

“What are you working on so seriously over here?” Takashi stepped into the room, making his way over so that he could stand at Lance’s shoulder and peer down at the sketchbook on the desk. A sharp inhale echoed through the room.

Lance had been sketching his dreams, filling the pages with image after image of a small black haired boy. His latest drawing had Takashi on the front porch, hip leaning against the railing as he cradled a small bundle to his chest. Takashi was looking up at the viewer, his eyes soft as the fingers of his right hand were grasped in tiny hands.

“Oh, Lance….”

The saliva Lance tried to swallow got caught in his throat, and he lowered his hands into his lap, fiddling with one of the pieces of broken charcoal. He couldn’t look at his husband or the drawing, his face flushed with shame.

“I would love nothing more than to raise a child with you, my Heart. But we can’t have children together; we both know this.”

Lance nodded against the fingers that had come up to cradle his chin, tears welling in his eyes. He looked up to meet Takashi’s gaze. Those grey eyes that Lance could — and would — spend the rest of his life staring into, were equally watery, shining with the thought of a want that neither of them could have.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want that,” Lance whispered, the tears bubbling over and spilling onto his cheeks. Takashi leaned down, kissing the tears away from one cheek while his thumb brushed them away from the other.

“I know, Love, I know.”

 

* * *

 

As the months passed by, they grew into their life. Takashi had taken up fishing from the ocean and hunting in the woods surrounding the cabin. Lance had taken over the duties of cooking and getting the food they couldn’t catch on their own from the nearby village. No one there knew that Lance wasn’t alone, and because he went only during the days where he knew there wasn’t much business, no one tried to follow him home.

The studio room had grown more cluttered, papers pinned here and there over the walls and small bits of wood in various stages of carving. Because Lance couldn’t get the stone or clay that he used to work with, he had moved on to wood carving. It was similar enough to his stone carving that, after a month, Lance had adjusted well.

Small figurines of various flowers, Gods, and humans were laid about the room. Wood shavings scattered about much like how the floor looked whenever Takashi got home from fishing — sand coating the front porch as his husband shot him a sheepish look and a boyish grin.

Lance ignored all of them today, however, heading over to the small closet he kept his carving wood in. After Lance’s tears the day after they arrived, Takashi had asked for Lance to get rid of the drawings of his dream child. Lance had agreed to it, but in the following months, he had had multiple dreams about the child.

He reached in and cradled his most recent project to his chest. Lance couldn’t resist a smile as he reached up to stroke the sleeping face of the carved child. He walked over to the desk, setting it down gently before taking a seat and scooting the chair closer. He glanced at the door, worried that Takashi might come back early from his fishing trip. When, after a few seconds, no one showed up, Lance turned back to the desk.

The carving had taken Lance a month to do, what, with wanting to get every detail from his dream just right. A small fist was peeking out of the swaddle Lance had put him in, a toe out of the bottom. The tiny nose was scrunched up as if he was about to cry, and Lance leaned forward to kiss it as he opened his drawer to pull out his carving knife. His child was mostly finished, just needed a few more smoothing sessions on his one cheek.

_“As the waves crash, against the shore,_   
_Thunder above cracks, speaking of old lore._   
_It tells of tales from long ago,_   
_Before you came to me._   
_When my heart was only half full,_   
_And when yours was empty._   
_But now you’re here, in my arms,_   
_And I swear to protect you from harm._   
_My little one, so small, so strong._   
_Listen well to the song from above.”_

Lance sang as he carved, moving in time with the slow tune. He had no idea what words were leaving his mouth, only that the sound was soft and comforting. He lost himself to it, finishing quickly. He set his knife down, and lifted his child back into his arms.

“Hello again, Little One.” He leaned back in his chair, the child fitting snugly in the crook of his elbow. “It’s been awhile since I last saw you and I must apologize for that. Your Daddy was afraid of the storms that were looming on the horizon and he had us preparing for them for the last week.”

He talked to his child about what had happened, taking the time to explain things as he bounced him gently in his arms. As Lance talked, his eyes grew heavy, and he let them shut as he continued to speak. Eventually his words trickled off, replaced by soft snoring.

 

* * *

 

Takashi stared quietly at his husband. Lance had fallen asleep at his desk, cradling a carving Takashi hadn’t seen before to his chest. He had thought it adorable at first, tiptoeing closer to get a look at Lance’s sleeping face. Then he had seen what Lance was holding, and his heart had dropped.

It was the child from Lance’s old sketches.

A sigh left Takashi and he reached forward to gently pry the carving from Lance’s arms. A pang went through his chest as he traced the details of the carved face, his fingers tracing over closed eyes. He wished that this was something they could have, that there was a way for him to give Lance what he wanted. Unfortunately, Takashi was not a woman and there was no way for them to take in an orphan as the village nearby had none.

Takashi set the wood carving down on the desk and then leaned down to scoop Lance into his arms. Lance let out a little moan, turning so that he could bury his face into Takashi’s chest. As he turned to take Lance to bed, Lance’s foot knocked against the desk.

A crack sounded in the air, and a glance over his shoulder revealed that the carving had fallen to the floor. It must have landed on its face, for there was a split going over one cheek.

It was harder than Takashi had thought it would be to turn his back on the carving and leave the room.

 

* * *

 

Lance startled awake in the darkness, confusion causing him to struggle around the arm across his waist. The last thing he remembered was being in his studio, so how had he ended up in the bedroom?

“Mnmnmm- ‘an’ce….”

Takashi’s voice from behind him settled Lance’s nerves, and he let himself relax back into his husbands arms. Outside, thunder and lightning we’re putting on quite a show, rain pounding against the walls. That must have been what woke him up, as Lance wasn’t used to the tropical storms of the coast the villagers had warned him about it.

_“WaaAhhhhhhhaaaa!”_

Lance shot out of bed, breaking easily out of the hold around his waist that had kept him contained earlier. He didn’t even bother putting his shoes on, so focused was he on getting to that cry.

“Wha- Lance!” Takashi shot out of bed, stumbling behind as he followed his husband who looked to be in a panic. “What’s going on?!”

“I heard a baby!”

Lance shot down the hall, stumbling to a halt in the doorway of his studio before falling to his knees.

“Lance!”

Takashi knelt beside his husband, hands running up and down skin to feel for injury. When he found no damage, he wrapped his arms around Lance.

“There was no baby, my Love. It was simply a dre-“

_“WahahAAahhhh!”_

Takashi’s breath froze in his throat, and he turned his gaze up to look into the room. It was too dark for him to see clearly, but there was a small blob on the floor in front of Lance’s desk. It was wriggling, and Takashi stood on shaking legs — pulling Lance to his feet too — before stepping inside. Small sniffling sounds echoed throughout the room now. Outside, lightning flashed, and then lit up the room.

There, in the folds of a dark blue blanket, lay a child.

A sob left Lance’s mouth and he was on the floor, scooping the crying child into his arms in the next clap of thunder.

“T-Ta-Takashi!”

Blue eyes full of tears peered pleadingly up at him, and Takashi fell to his knees as deep violet eyes opened to stare at him. He reached out a trembling hand, cradling the child’s head as he shuffled closer on his knees. His other hand wrapped around Lance’s waist.

“He’s beautiful,” Takashi whispered, leaning his head down so that his forehead pressed against his husband’s. “I’m so sorry I doubted you. After all, you’ve already done the impossible twice with me.”

A hysterical laugh left Lance, and he cuddled the bundle closer. The crying had stopped, and now the baby was just staring up at him and Takashi. Lance reached up a hand to grasp a tiny fist between his fingers.

“He’s perfect.”

The was a small scar on one cheek, something that Lance hadn’t carved. He traced it with a finger, and then there was a clap of thunder so loud it shook Lance’s bones.

**This child shall be your last blessing. Keith is one of the lost souls — doomed to be forgotten and fade into nothing. And yet you dreamed of him, connected your souls together.**

**Treat him well, for he shall be your only child. This is my final boon.**

There was another clap of thunder, and then the voice — and the storm outside — were gone.

“We have a son.”

The words were breathed out into the quiet of the room.

“Lance, did you hear that voice too?” Takashi’s eyes were wide with awe and disbelief. He’d never had one of the Gods — for that was surely what it was — speak into his mind like that. Not even when he was dead! Lance nodded, leaning down to kiss their son on the forehead.

“Don’t worry, Keith. You shall not be forgotten.”

They stood up together, making their way back to the bedroom before collapsing onto the bed. Blankets and pillows were rearranged, forming a nest for them to lay a now sleeping Keith in.

“He’s so small. Lance, I, what if I drop him?”

Lance giggled, leaning forward to pull Takashi into a kiss. He stayed close when their lips separated, stroking Takashi’s cheek with his thumb.

“You won’t.”

Takashi smiled back, nerves and love lighting up his eyes. He tilted his head down so he could peer at Keith once again, Lance following his gaze.

“We won’t ever let him feel unloved,” Lance whispered fiercely, his hand tightening its grasp on Takashi’s.

“Never,” Takashi whispered back, the promise ringing through the air.

Outside, a small blue bird that had been perched on a tree branch watching them flew away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, that absolutely was Blaytz in the form of a bird at the end. XD 
> 
> What did you guys think?! I was really nervous about this and it took me three almost four months to finish. Any questions asked will be answered below, I promise!!!


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